


The Right Hand

by MHWK



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Reader-Insert, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHWK/pseuds/MHWK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the BBCSherlockImagines blog - "Imagine showing up at the pool with Moriarty and Sherlock being surprised to see you because you are his sister.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Hand

Standing around the corner, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your warm coat. You hated being the stereotypically forever-cold female, but at least you had a coat this time. 

You were waiting at the pool, out of sight, making sure everything went according to plan. Your boss didn’t like getting his hands dirty, but it was fine. That was what he had you around for. You weren’t quite as smart as he was, but he had never thrown that in your face the way your brothers had. You had grown up thinking you were stupid until you had met the other children at school, then it was a refreshing breeze because you were just normal. Normal was fine, as long as you weren’t as stupid as Mycroft and Sherlock had always made you feel. 

Jim Moriarty, however, let you take the lead. If something had to be done, he told you what it was and what his end result was expected to be and you made it happen. The bombs strapped to people and the puzzle game that ensued, you were quite proud of that. Setting off the old woman, however hadn’t been one of your fondest moments, but it had to happen. It was protocol.

You had actually been surprised with how easy Dr. John Watson had succumbed to the bomb vest. When you had finished strapping him in, you found his contempt amusing. 

“It’s nothing personal, Dr. Watson,” you had told him. And it wasn’t. You were simply doing your job, and it was a job that paid well. Whether people told you that you were at the right hand of God or the Devil didn’t matter, you were still a well respected right hand. Moriarty respected your presence. 

Your job was to hold the trigger for Dr. Watson. If Moriarty signaled you to blow the vest, you would without hesitation. However, when Dr. Watson’s friend arrived, and your boss made his stylish appearance, something seemed off. You knew that voice that echoed through the pool area. You knew that voice that showed care for John Watson.

As Moriarty approached you gave him a look, you didn’t need to ask. Whatever you did, he would be fine with it, he always was. You could do no wrong.

Composing yourself, you stepped out beside him, slightly behind him. He was your boss, not your equal and you showed him the respect he deserved. You were not, however, expecting the man across the room to be the one that had driven you to prove that you were worth something. 

Sherlock Holmes had driven you to a life of crime while he played detective. He stared back at you, oblivious to Moriarty’s introduction.

“I see you have met my dearest friend, Mr. Holmes,” Moriarty said quaintly.

Sherlock wouldn’t speak, he had no humorous quips this time. He had nothing to say, but the surprise on his face said it all. He felt betrayed. You could read it in him as surely as he could read anyone else, he didn’t try to hide it. 

Betrayal. How could you have done such a thing? How could you attack him and his his friend and so many other people in the name of this game. You were family, no matter how you, him, and Mycroft treated one another. Family was still family. 

You frowned. Now he wanted to be family, when it benefited him. 

In your defense, however, you didn’t know that Moriarty’s game had been targeting Sherlock, but it made sense. The Consulting Criminal needed an opposite, and he found it in the chaotic-good Consulting Detective. 

“Are you two having a fun conversation?” Moriarty mused aloud.

You smiled. “I have nothing to say to him, Boss. Mind if I go?”

Moriarty pouted. “You don’t want to start the fireworks?” he whined.

Nonchalantly, you shrugged. “It was much more fun when I didn’t know who I was setting this up for,” you replied and handed over the trigger.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said and tapped your chin. 

That wasn’t right, he never did that. It was a show for Sherlock, rubbing it in that his little sister worked for the big bad wolf. 

“Sure thing, Boss. I’ll wear something nice,” you chuckled. Before you turned your back on your brother, you waved and said, “Great game, Sher! We should do it again sometime.”

Sometime? You laughed at yourself as you left the pool. There wasn’t going to be another sometime. 

As the doors closed behind you, you paused. Of course there would be another sometime. Sherlock had more lives than a cat. If anyone could beat him, it would be Moriarty, but this was only the first real match. The one you really looked forward to was the game point. 

This was finally getting exciting.


End file.
